


Written In Blood

by lesbiannoodlesoup



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Dw he never does anything with the OCs, Jealous Hannibal Lecter, M/M, Oblivious Will Graham, Petty Hannibal, Romantic Comedy, The only divergence is that Will gets bitches, murder valentines, possibly who knows, season 1 AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:26:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28967547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbiannoodlesoup/pseuds/lesbiannoodlesoup
Summary: In which someone keeps murdering Will’s dates.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Original Character(s)
Comments: 23
Kudos: 220





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Formerly titled "Artful Jealousy." (In case you seem to have found a random fic in your bookmarks.)

The first time, it seemed like a coincidence. Will had just finished helping out in the forensics lab when he came back to his office to grade his students’ latest essays. He was reading a particularly dreadful paragraph detailing the effects of harsh weather on dismembered limbs when someone started knocking on his office door. This was abnormal, since he had previously told his students that he didn’t have regular office hours, and that they should just send him an email instead. 

He stood up with a sigh. The student must have either ignored his warning, or just didn’t pay enough attention, which was all too common among this year’s class. Either way, it would be easy to shoo them away under the guise of some important deadline or impending meeting. But when he opened the door, it wasn’t one of his students.

A thin blonde woman stood in the hall, and it took Will a few seconds too long to recognize her as one of his fellow teachers. Her room was a few doors down the hall, and if Will’s memory served him right, it was her first year at the Academy. She was around Will’s age, maybe a bit younger; she was the type of professor that gave free days and was far too bubbly for the content of her lessons. 

She turned to look at Will as soon as she noticed him, a wide smile stretching across her face. 

“Professor Graham-” she started. “Or can I call you Will? Since we’re coworkers and all.”

Will couldn’t once remember having a conversation with her or having any hint of friendship between them, but he nodded anyway. “Yeah, yeah I don’t care.”

“Great,” she said. “Well, Will, I just wanted to let you know that I read your new book, the one about murder weapons and their significance, and I really enjoyed it.”

_ What a weird comment _ , Will thought. It was rare to have anyone he knew read his books, let alone take time out of their day to talk to him about it. Still, he managed to be courteous. “Thank you, it was very interesting to research and write. Now, I have some work to get back to. Have a nice evening.”

He turned to shut the door when she reached out to keep it open.  _ Bold.  _

“Actually, I had some questions to ask you about it, if you don’t mind.”

Will did in fact mind, but he didn’t say anything about it and instead let the woman into his office. She found a seat at a leather chair and pulled it up so she was face to face with Will on the opposite side of his desk. As soon as he sat down across from her she pulled out a copy of Will’s book from her bag. It was full of page markers, sticky notes, and dog-eared pages, all the marks of a well-read book. So maybe she really did like it. 

“Let’s start here,” she announced, opening the book to a page tabbed with a bright blue Post-It flag. Almost every paragraph was littered with gel pen annotations and pastel highlights. “Here you say that blunt force trauma indicates a level of passion from the killer, although I think that, on many occasions, a killer would use it as a quicker alternative to something like a knife, although you say in chapter 10 that knives are more common in impersonal killings.”

_ She knows her stuff,  _ Will mused, before answering her question. “I think there is always room for discrepancies, especially in this field, but can you explain the logic behind your point for me?”

They went on like that for about an hour, as she led him through each sticky-noted page, asking him long questions while he gave short answers. Will may not have said a lot, but it was the most he’d said to anyone besides Jack, Alana, or Hannibal in weeks. That was what made him end the conversation. It was a Thursday, and his appointment was scheduled for 7:30 that evening, as always. Will usually left Quantico by 6 since Baltimore was so far away, but the clock on the wall of his office said it was almost 7.  _ Shit.  _

He quickly stood from his chair and started putting his jacket on. “Sorry, I have to go.”

“What? Why?”

“I have… an appointment.”

“Oh,” she said, before pulling another sticky note out of her bag. She wrote something on it and handed it to Will as he was stuffing loose papers into his briefcase. As he was walking out the door, she grabbed his arm. “Free tomorrow? I’d love to…  _ discuss.”  _ She shot him a wink, but he was out the door and down the hall towards the parking lot as soon as she let go. 

It was only once he was in his car that he looked at her sticky note. The only thing written on it was a phone number and a name: Kacey. Will then he hadn’t even thought to ask her name, and she probably thought he already knew it. She must have overestimated him. 

It took the next few minutes of car-starting and parking-lot-navigating for Will to even get that Kacey had asked him on a date. He was a bit taken aback by that, considering it had been far too long since he’d been on a date, and wasn’t really looking for one with someone he barely knew. Probably the thing to bring up at his appointment.

_ On that note,  _ thought Will,  _ probably a good idea to make a call.  _ He probably shouldn’t have been using his phone in the car, but this evening was already messy enough, so he did it anyway. He had Hannibal’s number saved in his phone.

“Hello Will,” said the voice on the other end of the line. 

“Hey, I’m sorry- can we move my appointment back a while? I was… caught up and I’m just now on I-95. You can cancel if you want, I don’t mind. Sorry again.”

“Don’t apologize. I’ll be in my office.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to take too much of your time-”

“You aren’t,” Hannibal cut in. “You needn’t wait, just come in.” Then he hung up before Will could say anything else.

\--

Will knocked before entering Hannibal’s office, even if Hannibal didn’t care. The door swung open to reveal Hannibal, still dressed in a three-piece suit. It was almost 8:30, and Will felt terrible for messing up Hannibal’s schedule. 

Will found a hook for his jacket and made his way over to his chair as always. On his way, he noticed a set of immaculate pencil drawings on Hannibal’s desk.  _ Impressive. _

Hannibal sat down across from Will and clasped his hands together in his lap. 

“If you don’t mind, may I ask why you were late?”

“I had a discussion with a colleague and I lost track of time.”

“Hm,” Hannibal mused. “Go on.”

“Well, she...she may have asked me on a date. To be honest, I’m not even sure.”

“Elaborate. What did she ask?”

“We were discussing one of my books, and she gave me her number and asked to discuss it further tomorrow night. Is that a date?”

“Yes, that would usually be a proposition. Would you be interested in a date with this woman?”

That made Will think. “Well, I don’t know her that well, but she’s nice and she’s interested in me, so I might go to be courteous.”

Hannibal didn’t respond for a second, just nodded and hummed quietly. “I think it would be good for you,” he said finally. “You should go. Tomorrow you said?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s her name? For curiosity’s sake.”

“Kacey.”

“And she works at the Academy?”

“Just a couple doors down from me.”

Hannibal nodded again, and didn’t continue the conversation. The rest of the appointment went as normal, Will talking about his nightmares and cases while Hannibal responded in turn. Hannibal offered dinner at the end of the hour, but Will declined on account of his dogs. He had a normal evening, including the lack of sleep.

\--

He woke from his fitful sleep not because of an alarm, but because of the ringing of his phone. The caller ID said it was Jack, which only meant one thing. Another body.

It was far too early, but Will still answered it. “Yes?”

“Will. Come to the Academy. There’s another body, and they’re thinking it’s the Ripper. I need you to tell me if that’s true.”

“I’ll be there in an hour. Who is it?”

“Kacey White. She works in your department.”

“Oh my God.” Will hung up the phone without elaborating, and was in the car as soon as his dogs were all safely inside. 

\--

He walked into the Academy to see Kacey displayed in her own lecture hall. She was sitting on a chair behind her desk, legs crossed. The desk was clear, only containing her copy of Will’s book, open to the middle page. Her hands were sat palms up on either side of the book, holding her eyes. The rest of her looked quite pristine, even the blood from her eyes had been cleaned up, leaving her dark green dress looking good as new. 

Jack walked up to his side, handing him a file. “Is it the Ripper?”

“Is there any meat missing?” Will asked back.

“We haven’t checked yet, we didn’t touch the body before you got here. I’ve also called in Dr. Lecter to see if he can help. Do you need us to clear out?”

Will pushed his glasses farther up his nose, nodding. “Yeah.”

Once everyone was gone, Will could start. The file said that Kacey never left the night before, so Will knew she was killed in the building, most likely in the same room he was standing in. Her neck was snapped before her eyes were taken. She was wearing a different dress than Will remembered, so the new one must have meant something. Her hair and makeup was still intact, so the killer recognized her beauty and chose to keep her that way. This wasn’t meant to embarrass her. Next was the eyes. The killer wasn’t interested in her, which is why he didn’t try to embarrass her. He was more interested in what she had her eyes on, so he took them out. That way she couldn’t look at whatever- or more likely  _ whoever  _ it was. He was  _ jealous _ .

The book was another story. Why this one? It was one of many books in her collection. Will wondered if she had been reading it before she died. Maybe the killer recognized the author. But to anybody else, Will had nothing to do with Kacey. He’d only spoken to her once, and the only person he’d told about it was Hannibal, who:

  1. Was not a serial killer
  2. Was in Baltimore, conducting Will’s therapy and making fancy dinners
  3. Had no reason to care about Will’s dating life



He called Jack back in. “I think he’s jealous.”

Jack looked like he was expecting more from Will. “Jealous of what?”

“He took her eyes out so she couldn’t look at the person the killer wanted. He wasn’t interested in her.”

“Well, was it the Ripper?”

“Take the body to autopsy, I want to see what’s missing.”

Will didn’t mention his conversation the night prior. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you read this chapter, please keep in mind that I do not drink coffee, and an Iced Blonde Doubleshot is the most caffeinated thing I could find on the Starbucks website. Please inform me if there are better options for my fictional coffee addicts.

The second time didn’t come for another two weeks. Will was never a big coffee drinker, and when he did drink it, if only to stay awake after a long night of staring at the wall, he always made it at home. Well, that was the case until recently. 

The entire team, including Hannibal, had been buried in cases as of late, and most of those had been outside of Virginia. Will spent even less time in his home, and was almost never able to fall asleep in those creaky motel beds. His lack of sleep had only gotten worse when the onslaught of cases tended to haunt his mind at all hours, especially in the night. 

All of this resulted in a Will that was even more hollow than usual, the ghosts of his mind making themselves known through the bags beneath his eyes. He must have looked extra disheveled one day, because Beverly brought him a paper cup to his desk. 

“Iced Blonde Doubleshot,” she said, sporting a conspiratorial grin. “Venti.”

Will didn’t look up. “I don’t drink coffee.”

“You will now,” she leaned in closer. “This shit is like crack. Scratch that, it’s better than crack, and I would know.”

“What are you implying, Katz?”

“Nothing.”  _ Bullshit.  _ “Just drink it and wait a few minutes. It’s life changing.”

Will sighed. “Fine.”

“Don’t say I didn’t tell you so,” Bev sang, walking out his office door. 

\--

He drank it slowly at first, small sips in between adding photos to his PowerPoint. But after a few minutes, he was taking gulps, and the cup was finished before he was able to complete his lesson plans. It took about a half an hour before Will felt anything, but damn did he.

He was able to focus during his lessons, even if he still didn’t look his students in the eye. His retelling of the Ripper’s latest victims was descriptive and vivid, elevated by the fact that Will was able to get up from his desk and walk around the room. He wasn’t even tired by lunch, and the afternoon passed by easily. He went to bed with all his work done at a normal time and even if the coffee couldn’t cure the nightmares, it sure could make his waking hours a bit easier. 

\--

At 7:00 the next morning, Will found himself pulling his car into the parking lot of the Starbucks just a few streets down from headquarters. The drive-through line was long, so Will decided to walk inside. 

Behind the counter stood a man, maybe five or ten years younger than Will, rearranging cake pops in a display. Will rang the bell next to the register and the young man looked up at him with a smile. His name tag said his name was Jonathan. 

Jonathan had dark hair and eyes, which seemed to look Will over from head to toe. It made him very uncomfortable. 

“What can I get for you today?” Jonathan asked, dropping his elbow to the counter and holding his chin in his hand. 

Will tried to remember what Beverly had called the drink the day before. “Blonde… uh, Blonde Doubleshot. Iced.”

Jonathan punched something into the screen on his side of the register. “Name?” he asked. 

“What?”

“Your name… for the order.”

“Oh, oh yeah sorry. It’s Will.”

“What’s your last name, Will?”

Will suspected that Jonathan didn’t actually need his last name for the order, but he was tired and just wanted a coffee, so he obliged. “Graham. Will Graham.”

Jonathan wrote his name in Sharpie on the edge of the cup. “Iced Blonde Doubleshot for WillGraham. Perfect.” He said Will’s full name as if it was one word. “$3.25.”

Will handed over the cash and stood by the end of the counter to wait for his drink. He rubbed his eyes and then dragged his hand down his face. He’d woken up at 3:00 that morning and hadn’t been able to go back to sleep, so coffee looked like a great idea. While he waited, he pulled out his phone and clicked through his unread messages. There were a lot. The most recent of those was from Jack only a few minutes earlier. 

_ Will,  _ it read.  _ Come down to Forensics when you get here. Call Hannibal and make sure he comes as well.  _

Will wasn’t sure why he was the designated person to call whenever Hannibal was needed somewhere, but his mind was too foggy from his lack of sleep, so he didn’t think too much as he clicked the button next to Hannibal’s name in his phone. The doctor picked up after only two rings. 

“Good morning, Will.” Hannibal’s voice was tinny through the phone, but still rich as ever with his lilting words and thick accent. Will tried not to focus on it. Too distracting. 

“Hey, Doctor Lecter, do you have appointments today?”

“Yes, why? Do you need me to clear out the day for you? If so, you only need ask-”

“No, no, no,” Will cut in as if Hannibal were already sending the cancellation messages. “Jack needs you at Quantico. Forensics Department. I have no idea how long it’ll take though, so you can make the call about what to cancel.” 

Will could almost hear Hannibal’s small smile in his voice when he spoke, “I do have a twenty-four hour cancellation policy, but you’ve already ignored that in the past, so I’m sure I won’t have a hard time clearing my day.”

Will cringed at the embarrassing reminder, but he tried not to let it show in his voice. “Yeah, yeah, ok. I’ll meet you there.” He almost hung up before Hannibal spoke again. 

“And of course, if my job doesn’t take the whole day, I’d love to spend some of my free time with you.”

Despite himself, Will felt a blush rise on his cheeks.  _ Who blushes when they talk to their therapist?  _ Once again, Will decided not to look into it. “Thanks, yeah, ok.” He hung up.

It was just then that Jonathan put a lid on his cup behind the counter. “WillGraham?” he called, still ignoring the space between Will’s first and last name. He took another marker and scribbled something onto the edge of Will’s cup before handing it to him with yet another smirk, this time accompanied by an over-exaggerated wink. 

“Have a nice day.”

Will didn’t say anything, just nodded and walked as quickly as he could out the door and back to his car. He didn’t care enough to see what was written on his cup. 

\--

His drink was only half finished when he flashed his ID to the security guard and made his way to the Forensics Department in the basement. He walked in to see evidence laid out on the steel table, among which sat a green dress, copy of his book, and a pair of surprisingly well-preserved blue eyes. Jack spotted him first and pulled him to the table. 

“We still can’t figure out if it’s the Ripper,” Jack said. “Can you evaluate the evidence again?”

Will sighed. “I already told you, Jack. I don’t know. It was dramatic and posed like the Ripper, but the Ripper would have no reason to kill this woman. Plus, you yourself said there were no organs missing, and if I remember correctly, that’s the biggest part of his M.O..”

“But what  _ was  _ the reason she was killed? She was one of the nicest people in this building, and she turns up dead for seemingly no reason. Give me an explanation.”

“I  _ told  _ you Jack! I’ve told you probably twenty times already. He was jealous.”

“Of what, Will?” Jack’s voice was getting more impatient by the second. 

“I don’t know Jack, I don’t know.”

Will rubbed his forehead for a bit, letting silence fill the empty space between him and the others. 

After a few seconds, Will heard unmistakable footsteps behind him. Only one person wore expensive shoes with those smooth soles and strode swiftly and confidently like that. Hannibal Lecter came up beside him and placed a large hand on his shoulder. Surveying the rest of the team, Hannibal asked, “So what seems to be the matter?”

Price, Zeller, and Katz all tried to speak at the same time, but were quickly cut off by Jack speaking above them. 

“We can’t tell if the Ripper killed Kacey White. We need more insight.”

“I’d love to be of service,” Hannibal said, smiling.

“First,” Brian Zeller piped up, “I think it’s important to note that there is a small cut across the abdomen, but it was sewn up. Like the killer was about to remove something, but thought better of it.”

“The Chesapeake Ripper doesn’t  _ think better of things, _ ” said Will. 

“Does he not?” asked Hannibal, stepping forward to observe the evidence. 

They continued on like that for hours, picking over the tiniest discrepancies in the evidence, but still making no new discoveries. Will could tell that Jack was still upset with him, but he tried not to think about it. 

They decided to take a break around lunch time and spend the afternoon on their own. As the room dispersed, Will remembered to grab his half-empty coffee cup from one of the tables. “Told you so,” Beverly chided, giving Will a friendly elbow to the stomach. 

He flinched away from the touch. “Caffeine purposes only.”

\--

Hannibal offered to take Will home for lunch, and Will didn’t have a better option, so he followed Hannibal out to his Bentley in the parking lot. He didn’t get the chance to put his half-empty coffee in the cup holder before Hannibal snatched it out of his hand. Will had forgotten about the note written on his cup before Hannibal started reading it aloud.

“ _ ‘You’re cute. Hit me up and we can get to know each other. -Jon.’ _ With a phone number.” Hannibal turned to look at him. “Another date, Will?”

Will pushed up against the console and over into Hannibal’s space to get a better look at the cup. He didn’t know what he was checking for, but it had the same message Hannibal had read before, scrawled down in a messy almost-cursive.

“God, I didn’t even know. That was the first time I’ve ever been to get coffee, and I’d never met the barista before. I didn’t think to check for any notes.”

“Does that mean you aren’t interested?”

“I don’t think a date with a random twenty-something barista is a good idea.”

“Your twenty-something being male isn’t the disagreeable part of that equation?”

Will did _not_ expect Hannibal to be so forward about something like that. And Will did not expect to have to answer that question. He wasn’t straight, that was for sure. College boyfriends and a few of his fellow cops in Louisiana had disproven that years ago. But that wasn’t the issue. The issue was Hannibal. As much as he didn’t want to face it, Will may have had the _tiniest_ crush on Hannibal. With his broad shoulders, low voice, and that damn accent, who wouldn’t?

But Hannibal was definitely straight. Will wasn’t fooled by his patterned suits and love of the arts. He was just European, not gay. And who would want to talk about their sexuality with their straight therapist?

...Especially when your shoulders are pressed together in the front seat of his car. Will moved back out of Hannibal’s space and into his own seat, awkwardly clearing his throat. 

“No, that’s… not the  _ disagreeable  _ part,” he said, keeping his eyes fixed on the dashboard and not on Hannibal’s eyes, which he could feel staring at him. Hannibal only gave an affirmative hum before pulling his car out of the parking lot. Will turned on the radio as an excuse to not have to talk to Hannibal on the drive to the house.

\--

Hannibal made them salads for lunch, complete with homemade dressing and steak to accompany the avocados and tomatoes. Will gave a ‘thank you’ but didn’t speak much more than that. He was still feeling a bit exposed from their conversation in the car and was not excited for their lunch to inevitably become a therapy session. But he did expect it to take longer for Hannibal to broach the subject. He started asking questions almost as soon as he was in his seat. 

“So Will, I think that we should discuss your date possibility.”

“No we should not.”

“I think that you need to better understand your dating life, especially after the… tragedy that was Miss White a few weeks ago.”

“There isn’t much of a dating life to speak of, Doctor Lecter. And I’m completely fine with that. If I remember correctly, it was you that told me to talk to her again.” Will shifted in his seat, eager to leave. 

“I hear that Doctor Bloom has her eye on you,” Hannibal noted, and it sounded like he was testing something, pushing at Will until he got an answer to whatever question he was wondering about. 

“Well, I haven’t heard that.”

“I would think you would, given your gift.”

“I tend to not be quite as... receptive with those things, Doctor.”

“I’m quite aware.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” There was a pause. “So you would, in theory, be open to either male or female partners?”

_ Jesus Christ, this is awkward.  _ “Uh, yeah, that’s… yeah.”

“That’s good to know, Will. I hope it will assist me in providing you the best therapy I can. Now, about those headaches you’ve been having-”

Hannibal didn’t bring the subject back up, even as he dropped Will off at the Academy front doors. 

\--

The rest of the afternoon and evening ran smoothly, and it was 10 pm before he got another call from Jack.

“Will, we need you.” He sounded tired, even through the distortion of the phone. 

“Where, when, and why?” Will asked.

“There’s an apartment building, I’ll text you the address. Come as soon as you can, there’s been another body,” Jack said before hanging up the call. 

Will corralled the dogs into the kitchen, slipped on his boots and coat, and put the address into the GPS on his phone. About an hour away. 

He was almost 10 minutes away from his house before he thought to turn on the radio. It didn’t matter too much what was playing, just that  _ something  _ was. Today it happened to be a Top 40 Country station on which a man with an obviously fake southern accent was singing about girls and songs and pickup trucks.  _ Distractions are good,  _ he thought. 

\--

The song switched to something Will could faintly recognize as Taylor Swift while he was pulling into the apartment’s parking lot. It was dark by this time at night, but the street lights were on and the flashes of red and blue were enough for Will to see where he was going as he walked up to Jack, who was chatting with a police officer. 

“Will, good, you’re here,” Jack said, turning to look at Will. 

“Yeah.” Will rubbed his eyes. “Do you need me to look at the body?”

Jack only nodded, leading him up the stairs. He handed over a file. “Jonathan Benitez. Twenty-six. Was just finishing up college, found dead in his apartment.”

“Where did he work?” Will asked, curious.

“Some coffee shop in town.”

Will could feel his feet moving faster as he stomped up the stairs and through the apartment door. He only paused to take a pair of rubber gloves from a forensic specialist before finding his way to where about ten people were clustered around the body. Jack was close behind. 

“Everybody out!” he called, gesturing towards the small crowd. It wasn’t until Will could hear them all leave that he raised his eyes to the body. Sure enough, it was Jon from the coffee shop, covered in blood and mutilated on his own kitchen counter.

_ What a coincidence. _

Will closed his eyes and let the pendulum swing. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, let me know if you liked this chapter. I sincerely apologize for the long wait, school has been hell on earth for the last few weeks. I promise this fic is far from abandoned and I will continue to send updates when I have the time. Much love y'all. <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this in one sitting on a school night with my unfinished homework still sitting in my bag because I owed it to y'all. I apologize about how short this chapter is (1700 words), but I promise the next will be longer. On a similar note, the chapter is more of a placeholder to keep the plot going, but I promise the coming installments will be funnier and more murder-y. I did not reread this chapter on account of the late hour, so good luck Charlie.

_ I open the door quietly, as to not alert him of my presence. My footsteps are light, even on the hardwood. I peek around the corner to see him standing in the kitchen, chopping vegetables for a dinner he will never eat. He doesn’t notice me on account of the television set in the living room, blaring some kind of terrible drama program. He will never see it coming. _

_ I creep up behind him, only a few feet away when he spins to see me. He tries to fight, but I’ve already grabbed him by the shoulders. I smirk lightly before snapping his neck. It’s an inelegant death for an inelegant man. He falls to the floor in a heap, but there is no blood. At least not yet. I intend to butcher this pig; I will demonstrate to everyone else just why they should keep away from what is mine.  _

_ The kitchen has a small selection of knives, but I still manage to select a curved butcher knife of decent quality. It’ll be just enough to get the job done. I haul his body to lay flat on his back on the granite countertop. I put my knife to use and watch the blood trickle and pool onto the floor, a small smile on my face. _

\--

Will snapped out of his head, breathing heavily and shaking a bit where he stood. He had to take a minute to collect himself, still looking at the body in front of him. Well, at this point it could hardly be called a body; it was more of a bloody pulp, except for the face. There were criss-crossing cuts covering the arms, legs, and torso, blood soaking through his clothes and dripping onto the floor in a reflective pool.

Tucked along the sides of the body were yellow hyacinths. The blooms seemed to grow from the perimeter of the body, like they sprouted straight from the thick arterial blood. It called to mind a story Will once heard, the Greek myth of Hyakinthos.

Apollo, the sun, and Zephyr, the wind, both loved the same handsome boy, the young Hyakinthos. Hyakinthos was closer to Apollo, and it made Zephyr incredibly jealous, causing him to strike and kill Hyakinthos during a game of discus with Apollo. 

_ A classic tale of jealousy and destruction. _

He wrung his hands together and took slow steps toward the door. When he opened it, Jack lifted his focus from the folder in his hands to look at Will, quizzically raising a single eyebrow. Will took a deep breath, but it still managed to shake as he exhaled. “It’s the same killer,” he said with finality. “The one who killed Kacey White.”

“And how exactly do you know this?” Jack asked.

“It’s the jealousy. The- the same patterns. The victim here had the same thing Kacey White did, and the killer wanted to take it away. There’s some kind of common link between the victims, and that link will lead straight to the killer. And he’s getting messier. Kacey White’s body was clean, hell, there wasn’t a speck of blood in the whole crime scene! But obviously something was different here. This was angry and bloody. This victim was different than Kacey, something worse, more deserving of a butchering, at least in the killer’s eyes. But I know they have something in common. We just need to find it.”

“Will, there were organs missing.” Jack was frustrated. “Kacey White was fully intact. The styles were on completely different ends of the spectrum. There is no way this is the same killer.” 

“I told you, Jack. There was something different about Jonathan Benitez. I just need to pinpoint what it is.” Will knew he looked like he was grasping at straws, but he knew he was right.

“I-,” Jack cut himself off. “Will, it’s late,” he sighed. “Go home, get some rest, we can continue this discussion in the office tomorrow morning.”

Will wanted to protest, but instead just nodded his head, glad to spend some time away from the flashing lights and crowds of investigators swarming the scene like a cloud of bugs ready to suck the social energy straight out of his head. He deliberately kept his gaze on his leather boots as he walked down the stairs and out to his car. 

\--

He only managed to drive a few miles away from the scene before he pulled over into a patch of grass next to the road. It was just past midnight and he knew that if he went home he wouldn’t get any sleep, especially with the strange things that seemed to be following him lately. Home sounded far from appealing.

He knew where he wanted to go, but he also knew it was a bad idea. Their awkward lunch had probably set Hannibal off, and he likely didn’t want Will at his house more than necessary. An AM visit was the last thing Hannibal wanted. 

Will sat there for a long while, trying to convince himself why this was a terrible plan. But the soft clop of hooves reached his ears and he had to give up, reaching for the smart phone in his pocket.

_ 12:35 AM: _

_ Hey, disregard this if you’re not, but are you awake? _

**_I find I often function better on less sleep than the average person. I’m afraid it’s a side effect of my time at medical school. How may I be of service?_ **

Will breathed a sigh of relief at the quick reply. 

_ I’ve been out at a case, and it’s a lot. I don’t think I can go home alone. _

**_My home is always open to friends._ **

Will feigned shock as he typed the next message, as if this wasn’t what he had hoped for all along.

_ You don’t have to, but I’d like to take you up on that offer. _

**_I’ll be waiting by the door, Will._ **

Will clicked off his phone. No matter how ill-advised he knew this idea was, he still found himself making a U turn and pulling onto the familiar highway to Baltimore.

\--

The ground floor lights shone through the windows when Will pulled into Hannibal’s driveway. He’d spent less time on the road on account of the late hour, so he wasn’t sure if Hannibal expected him yet. He knocked twice on the heavy wooden door before it was answered swiftly by Hannibal himself. Still wearing his pajamas. Wearing a robe and a pair of pajama pants.  _ Oh dear God.  _ Will could feel his cheeks heating up as he tried to look anywhere that wasn’t the exposed strip of skin near the top of the doctor’s chest or the spot where his neck met his shoulder with a smooth curve of muscle above his collarbone. This was difficult, considering his only other options were Hannibal’s eyes or his clean hair, free of the usual gel, hanging loose over his brow, making him look just so debauched and  _ Goddammit, Will, get yourself together!  _

Will tried to clear his mind of those oh-so-distracting thoughts, but Hannibal either didn’t notice or deliberately chose to ignore it, opening the door further and letting Will in to take his coat off. “You called upon me at a late hour, may I know why? Aside from the details you’ve already shared with me, of course.”

Will had never expected to be glad to bring up murder before this moment. He followed Hannibal to the kitchen where a kettle of hot water was already heating up, no doubt for a late-night coffee. Not that Will was complaining. 

“There was another murder. The same killer that killed Kacey White, I know it. Jack doesn’t believe me, and all I have is my intuition to prove it.”

“And why does Jack not believe you? I would, what with your track record thus far.”

“He thinks they were too different, but that was my clue to know it was the same guy. Something about the second victim was more offensive to the killer, which is why he took such a different approach.”

“Why do you think he chose this new victim? Does that have something to do with the way he killed him?”

“It has everything to do with it. The victim had something that the killer wanted, the same way that Kacey White did. He must have had a different way of getting a hold of it, or he did something bad to get it.” Will was talking fast now, trying to say everything that seemed to pile up and spill out of his brain.

“You think he’s some kind of vigilante?”

“No, I think he’s in love.”

Hannibal looked up from the coffee then, only humming quickly and raising his eyebrows. He kept his eyes on Will. It was incredibly uncomfortable, yet Will enjoyed it a bit too much. He instinctively raised his wrist to check his watch.

“It’s late,” Hannibal said. “You should get some rest.”

Will knew this would happen. He made the situation awkward again, and Hannibal wanted him to leave. Typical. He stood and moved to grab his coat, but he was caught by the arm before he could make it out of the kitchen. 

“You can’t seriously be thinking of driving home at this time of night?” Hannibal asked, not relinquishing his grip on Will’s arm. “Why, you won’t be home until the rest of the world is waking up. My guest room is perfectly serviceable.”

Will shook his head. “No, no, it’s fine, I’ve already-”

“No,” Hannibal cut him off. “Come, he said, leading Will up the stairs. Will didn’t fight it.

Hannibal disappeared into his bedroom for s second but came out a moment later, having procured a set of cotton pajamas for Will, leagues nicer than any of his holey t-shirts tucked away in Wolf Trap. Hannibal led him down the hall to a slightly smaller guest bedroom.

“Sleep well, Will.” It felt like more of a command than a consolation. “Try to keep your mind off of our poor Jonathan.” Will couldn’t remember ever mentioning the victim’s name to Hannibal, but it was late and more than anything, he just wanted some rest. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, let me know how you felt about this chapter in the comments or kudos. I hope to update quicker next time, but I feel like every time I make that promise, I end up taking a month to upload, so I apologize again.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed, let me know if you did. Updates coming soon!


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